


Butterflies

by Aroadtotomorow



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:02:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24043321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aroadtotomorow/pseuds/Aroadtotomorow
Summary: Death is a painful thin, and sometimes there are no words to make it feel better, so maybe a creature, small, fragile creature can...Multiple different stories of grieve and comfort inspired by mythology from my country
Relationships: Aimeric/Jord (Captive Prince), Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	1. prologue

Young Damen is staring at the outside. Though his window he can see a countryside of his kingdom. He can see the spring coming - bringing life and joy to his people. He loves spring in Ios but his capital is a city of summer and Sun; here in Sicyon spring and winters have more of the charm.

He notices lot of butterflies flying around, finding their pair and flying away with it, making whole place and scene unreal. The true beauty of the world he lives in calls for him and unable to ignore it he gets out of his room, down the hallway in hurry so he couldn’t miss the beautiful scenery anymore.

On his way he is caught by his brother. Kastor picks him up and throws him bit in the air as he usually do. “I caught the runaway prince, now the kingdom is mine”  
All Damen can do is giggle “Stop it Kastor!” he struggles in his brothers arms but not too much, knowing he can fall and hurt himself.

“Not until you surrender and admit your escape plans.”

“I’m not playing anything.”

“Yeah sure. Listen little one I know Nikardos is not here…

“I’m not little.” Damen interrupts him quietly.

“But your face just screams mischief. So tell me what is your next attack and who is the next victim.”

“It’s not like that.” Damen says as his brother slowly puts him back on the floor. “I just want to see butterflies. They are beautiful.”

Kastor gives him a warm smile. He takes Damen's hand and takes him outside. He tells one soldier where they are going quietly so Damen couldn’t hear, then instead of going to the garden as Damen thought he takes Damen to the stables. In there Kastor pets his horse before putting a saddle and after making sure everything is perfectly balanced and in place he lifts his brother again and puts him on the saddle. Without word of explanation he lifts himself in the saddle and rides away with his brother.  
No matter how many times Damen asked where they are going or what are they doing Kastor remained silent. He only smiled and teased Damen for his impatient behavior. 

The ride was maybe an hour long and Damen was getting impatient but Kastor only advised him to take a look of his country and notice all of its beauties as the future king should. When finally mystery place was in front of them Damen couldn’t believe his eyes.

It was great meadow protected with wall of hill from where small waterfall came, there was small cave enough for two or three people to enter comfortably, but the best part were flowers and butterflies. All sorts of them. It was liken a small kingdom of these magnificent creatures. Damen could see big yellow ones and similar smaller pale ones, he could see small ones with blue on outside and brown from inside of their wings, big brown ones with the same color of Damen’s skin, great black ones with few white spots, middle red ones decorated with green spots, and white with reddish like blush detail on its wings.

All of them were flying around freely with their partners or looking for one.

Damen was just staring at the place. “During winter it’s cold and unable to cultivate. “ Kastor said. “Even though it’s a meadow, the ground is made of crushed lime stone, but these conditions are perfect for the butterflies and flowers.

“Wow.” Whispered Damen still looking around, he did recognized this place, he was here many times during winter and fall even summer, but never in spring. It always felt dead and now it was a source of life. “Kastor it’s beautiful.” Can we come here again next year?”

“Maybe if father allows us but you know that Sicyon is not the best place to be in spring. We’ll see.”

“This one is adorable.” Damen said catching one small blue butterfly.”

“I don’t like blue ones, they have color of Vere. I’m more of the fan of these ones.” Kasto said pointing at a middle brown butterfly „His colors are similar to ours.”

“I don’t know; they are kind of just brown like other bugs. Blue one are more butterfly-ish.”

These ones are actually really rare. Blue ones can be find in Vere, Isthima, Patras and many other places. These brown ones are found only here. People say sometimes they can be seen in other part of Akelios, but it’s rare. They live short life and have to fly long way to find their significant other.” Kastor said as one flew right next to him.

“Wow Kastor you must be so smart when you know so much.” Damen eyes were widely open full of wonder and adoration for his brother.

The time was passing while brothers were admiring the view trying to maybe catch a butterfly or two. It was moments like this one that made Damen love his brother more.

“We need to go Damen, father will be concerned if we don’t come back before sunset.”

“Aww but we just arrived.” Damen pouted looking up directly in his brother gentle eyes.  
>  
“It has been some time and we need to return before sunset or father will get concerned.”

On the way back the ride was slow. Damen was looking back as long he could but even he knew that days like this happen only once or twice a year so they were there in perfect time.

Kastor noticed Damen disappointment for leaving and decide to cheer up his brother.” You know in Isthima they say that every butterfly is a piece of human soul, piece that was good and gentle and it’s taking a shape of butterfly as a sign of thanks toward everything and everyone they loved. And when the soul is gone from this world it sometimes appears as a consolation.”

“That’s weird.”

“I know, but remember that every time you feel like you miss someone.”


	2. Chapter 2

Damen is standing there, right there in front of the tomb, in front of the cold white marble stone. He is not talking, he can’t he doesn’t know what. What could a king say to the cold stone?

He might hope that the stone will answer him, or give him some advice or congratulation using the voice of his desisted brother.

It’s already spring, world is coming back to life and Damen can already see it through the redness of poppy flowers that lay on the entrance of the tomb, but for some reason Damen felt lifeless.

He wants to talk, wants the explanation, just few seconds so he could understand where did Kastor go? Where did that sweet older brother that he adored his whole life go?

He felt the presence and without turning he knows it is Laurent. He came to be there for Damen.

“It will not answer.” Laurent said, trying to give Damen some comfort.

“I know” Damen answers still not looking back. “I just wish I could understand. If we talked more, if I tried to understand maybe we could find shared interest. Maybe if we looked each other in the eyes…maybe I could give him the throne.”

“Well then the Akielos would find itself in the great mess. He was never born to be a king. A real king cannot be weak minded, something that Kastor was.” The usual cold voice of the king of Vere did nothing but put a sad smile on Damen’s face.

He could understand attempt of his lover to comfort him; but sadly it didn’t do much as this pain was very different. “I know, but he was my brother.”

There was a long silence.

“Damen…” Laurent tried to say something, he was fighting his own inner battle and choice of the words; but he knew that there was nothing he could say. He couldn’t truly understand the pain Damen went through. He remembered Auguste and how he lost him, but he also remembered how Auguste loved him back. There was never doubt for their love. Laurent lost his brother but not his love, even at his last breath Auguste still loved Laurent with his whole being. So how terrible it truly was being betrayed like this? He knew that Damen didn’t grieve death but betrayal.

Laurent’s uncle was example but there was never strong bond between them to begin with; but he did remember the feeling of confusion when first attempt on his life was made. How unreal and cold it felt. But Laurent was able to move on and Damen didn’t, he should have known this, after all Damen’s soul is gentle as his body is strong.

“Please…Laurent I…I just need to be left alone…just few moments.” Damen said as he felt Laurent’s hand on his shoulder.

Laurent sighed and left, outside he and Nikandros were waiting for Damen alone.

Damen was alone once again, only him and cold stone and two dead bodies lying under the cold stone. “It is already spring you know. Sicycon is once again full of butterflies… We were at Isthima last summer and I found a shell with black pearl in it. Isn’t it funny always thought that your stories about them were lies, I though you painted that one pearl just to impress me, I guess that was my mistake.” Still there was no tears but there was a lot of pain. “Why?” he whispers. “Why you just didn’t pledge loyalty to me? Why did you do what you did? We could be together. We could have had whole Akielos for ourselves, your son could have be with us, we could all together go to summer palace, you could have showed him how to swim, how to catch butterflies, how to fight…just like…you did…to me.” His voice was turning from laugh to low whisper, but still there was no tears.

Suddenly from a cold darkness Damen felt something light brushing on his shoulder. It was light and gentle like a feather, small and fragile. Damen looked at it. It was a butterfly, a middle size brown butterfly. Even in darkness Damen recognized this magnificent creature, he knew that it came all the way from now warm Sicyon to the darkness and coldness of the tomb; only to touch Damen’s shoulder. It was Kastor favorite butterfly, not just for being rare but for being almost impossible to catch. This little creature doesn’t trust anyone but his own kind.

The colors of this small creature reminded Damen so much of his brother. Brown wings colored as the skin most of Akielos has, small eye-like decorations on its wings reminded Damen of Kastor’s, eyes that once glowed with love and warmth but now cold and unable to open ever again. Its small wings slowly opened and closed few times almost like communicating.

Suddenly there was no pain in Damen chests, but there was water on his face. A lot of water slowly floating his cheeks and filling his dimples making small lakes then continuing its way to fall to Damen’s knees.

Outside Nikandros and Laurent were still waiting. “Maybe we should get him.” Nik said.

“No. not yet.” Silent whisper almost unheard escaped Laurent’s lips. Blue eyes now both cold and warm stared at the entrance of the tomb.

From there he could hear it, silent as a whisper in the night, silent as a secret, or a light wind in meadow – a cry. Cry belonging not to a man, not to a king or a warrior. Cry not containing pain; it was a cry of regret, cry of los, cry of a small boy-prince trapped into a body of a great king.


	3. Chapter 3

It was Laurent’s first time Isthima.

The island was beautiful just as Damen said. Full of legends, stories, history and culture. Even if it was added to the kingdom layer many known traditions came from it. The unique style old inhabitants soon seeded through the kingdom and Akielos became different than it was after the separation of the old empire.

The first thing Laurent felt was a touch, it was nothing as the touch of his lover; this touch was light like a lost bug or mosquito. Laurent moved his hand to shoo it, after all intruder as this one is not worth Laurent’s look. The pillows were soft air was clean and the effects of last night party were still there. Laurent was still wondering if it was sweet wine or Griva he had last night.

“ _You’ll barely feel it my ass_ ” mumbled Laurent into the pillow trying to ignore his headache, worst one for now and he hopes the last one.

The touch returned and Laurent again made minimal effort to get rid of his intruder. This action repeated itself few times until Laurent was fully awake. He raised his head in annoyance to face this mysterious creature that keeps him away from his so needed sleep.

It was butterfly. Small, blue one. It was the tinniest butterfly Laurent ever saw. He remembered this kind from the books he used to read peacefully in his library while sitting in Auguste’s lap. How precious those memories were now. He remembered calling them baby butterflies until Auguste explained whole process of butterfly’s metamorphosis. He loved that book, the same book Nicaise found interesting when he discovered library for the first time. Maybe those lovely pictures attracted him the same way they attracted Laurent.

The little intruder from earlier returned and nestled on Laurent’s hair once more, but he didn’t stay there for long, soon he moved from Laurent’s hair to his hand, from there Laurent could take better look at this little beast. He could see the lovely blue color of his wing’s outsides and interesting brown color of insides decorated with white spots like small pearls. Laurent stared at the gentle little creature remembering his childhood, freedom, love and innocence; those that was taken by force from him when he was young and how there were others who shared the same fate.

The butterfly few again and circled the room once more until it settled on the lock of Laurent’s hair - swinging right in front of his eyes. “You are annoying little guy.” He smiled watching the butterfly.

“I don’t think “small” is the way to describe me.” Came a voice from other side of the bed.

“Oh I’m talking to another guy in our room.” Laurent answered smugly.

“Really?” Damen teased. “So is this other guy prettier than me?”

“Yes.”

“Where is he?” Damen got up in one swing trying to be dramatic but in his act he scared small intruder who spread its wings and flew through window into unknown sky.

“You scared him off you big oaf.” Laurent said hitting Damen with pillow.

“Uhh sorry but I’m not letting anyone touch you. Not even butterfly.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.” Damen hugged Laurent and pulled him onto his chest. He went through Laurent’s hair. “You know it’s your color.”

“What?” Laurent cocked his eyebrow.

“This type of butterfly likes buttercup flower. He might mixed you for one. “

“Do I look like flower to you?” “Yes. Lovely, gentle, beautiful and poisonous. Perfect Buttercup.”

“And jet you are still giant animal.”

***

Laurent is sitting in the garden of Isthima’s palace, the book in his lap but unable to read it. He just stares at the letters as the wind flows and the smell of the summer and sea is filling his nostrils. He feels the light touch on his forehead.

“You again.” He whispers recognizing the touch of his morning intruder. “I thought you had enough of me.” But the butterfly just kept on flying around Laurent.

For a second Laurent thinks of Damen’s story of Isthima’s butterflies being part of human souls. He wonders how did Isthima’s people even came with such silly idea, but then again this is an old story, old as old empire. And he can understand a need of people to take condolences in hope that their loved ones are still there, or even part of them. He remembers himself talking to the cold unresponsive statue of his brother, hoping to hear a phantom of Auguste’s voice.

From Lauren’t pocket a small item fell out. It was lovely piece of jewelry, full of sapphires. He got it from one charming boy he once loved as brother. He took the earring and put it on the cover of the book; then as being guided by light the small blue butterfly lands on the largess of the sapphires, opening and closing his wings, reminding Laurent of Nicaise’s eyes.

“Even in death you just have to keep me annoyed huh?” Laurent joked to himself. He knew that his guest was just and insect and nothing more, the colors and attitude were mere coincidence merged with Laurent’s emotions.

The butterfly flew around Laurent once more and returned to the earring as it was saying something. “I know you are not him.” Laurent said it as he was discussing with butterfly. “He is dead.”

Then from nowhere another butterfly appears, its wings are big and yellow as Laurent’s hair. It took a flight around Laurent before landing close to the blue one opening and closing his wings while smaller one repeated the action as they were communicating. That moment last for a bit before both of intruders spread their wings and flew away. They circled Laurent before landing on his forehead, their presence light as a goodnight kiss, like something from a memory that comes and goes in seconds. And just like memories of childhood they disappeared flying up high toward the endless sky not turning back.

Was it a story he herd or the colors he saw, or memories that came, or simply a feeling of being far from his king’s duties, he didn’t know. But for the first time in long time Laurent felt his eyes filling up with tears; and without any self-control he let tears go.

hey were flowing slowly dropping on the book and earring, warm but leaving cold trail behind them, just like those two butterflies, just like those he loved so much.


	4. Jord

  
Jord could see her from the distance, she was still elegant and beautiful. Even though last few years of suffering caused more wrinkles and visible pain on her face; she still had that noble stand. It was obvious that she came from better household than her husband. But he couldn’t come near her again. He did once and it was painful, it was unseen and she didn’t put too much effort at acknowledging him that time so why would she do it now?

  
Lady Loyse mother of Beautiful Aimeric. They did share few similarities, the best ones. Those green eyes reminding him of Aimeric’s youth and naivety. Lips that use to be beautiful in youth just like Aimeric’s and certainly their stand. Beautiful and elegant. Maybe there was something else but he couldn’t remember right away.

  
Jord wanted to go to her to talk about her son. It was two years from his death. But he felt as a child who did something wrong, as he will be blamed or punished for something if he speaks.

  
He sees Lyoise standing in front of her son’s grave. Not crying but he can see the guilt. A mother shared more than physical resemblance to her son. They shared pain, the feeling that they did something wrong to someone they cared for and that there is no way back. The feeling of being manipulated but still being aware of what they were doing all the time.

  
“You are here again soldier.” Jord heard sudden voice coming from the woman. She didn’t turn to face him but she was obviously aware of his presence.

  
“My lady.” He bowed.

  
“You were here last year and you were the first one to give me any kind of condolence two years ago.” She finally turned slowly, her face devoted of any emotions. “What was your relation with my son?”

  
There was a long pause from Jord, he was trying to find right words.“I was his captain and his source of information that he collected for Regent.”

  
“I see.” She said in same neutral voice. But her lips made small - almost invisible movement.

  
“We all thought of Aimeric as the most loyal one, he killed a man who was by his word traitor and who tried to kill the prince. That supposed traitor was my friend and was loyal to the end instead.”

  
“My apologies.” She said but the voice was still cold and neutral; it reminded Jord of the prince.

  
There was a silence for some time until Jord approached slowly and put bouquet of poppies on the grave with one single pink rose.

  
“Was my son all that bad?” it sounded as a question she wanted to ask just so the silence wouldn’t be awkward as it was.

  
“My lady if You ask me personally as a soldier, as former captain - I believe that Aimeric could have been the greater solder ever. He was brave, strong, skilled, and loyal.” Lyoise gave him small confused look. “Even if his loyalty was to the wrong side it was strong. Maybe if the things were different he would be one of the greatest solders or maybe one day even a greatest Lord Vere had ever seen.”

  
“You sound sincere.”

  
“I am my Lady.”

  
Silence again, this one lasting for some time.

  
“Did you loved him or was it just good opportunity for you?” Her voice changed. It was obvious that she tried to sound neutral but it became colder as if she was accusing him.

  
“For me My lady; Your son Aimeric was something of a miracle. Young, intelligent, and noble. Man like him could only see me as his comrade- in best way captain who is still beneath him by birth. And to be hones at first I believed it was childish curiosity that sometimes appears in young man but…’ He turned to her to look her right into her eyes. “I did loved him. I loved him so strongly my Lady that when I found out of his betrayal I wanted him both dead and alive. I wanted him to suffer and to stay safe. But most importantly I wanted it all to be a dream, even if I wake up far from him with Aimeric never even noticing me I would be fine just for him being safe.”

  
Small smile just in the corner of Loyse’s lips appeared. “I’m glad that there was someone who loved him and cherished him over others.”

  
“You did my Lady. You might be the only one who truly loved him.”

  
“A love of mother is expected, a love of other man is not. Beside unlike you I didn’t try to protect him.” Jord gave her a confused look. “A story that our kings told me. When you tried to protect Aimeric from further humiliation.” She took a deep breath. “My loss of child is a punishment for not protecting him, but to you it’s only curse. A curse to forever be stuck in-between love and hate.” She moved from the grave giving Jord one more look full of sorrow and pain. “I hope that in time you will forgive my naïve child.” It was both apology and request. Then she left, leaving Jord alone with memories of her son.

Jord was standing still in front of the Aimeric’s grave. It was made of white marble stone with the face of youth carved in. Not really Veretian-like but this was something his mother asked for a year ago.

  
He was standing there looking at the beauty of the work and thought of Orland. He thought of his lifeless body lying somewhere in the mountains of Vere unmarked, not taken care of like it suits the traitor. He thought of the regret he felt for his comrade, for mistrusting him, for falling for the lies of beautiful liar.

  
Was there ever a truth in any words Aimeric had spoken?

  
But then again there was also another form of regret into Jord’s heart. The one he couldn’t fully understand. Regret of loving Aimeric and the regret of not being able to save him. Maybe there was a chance, maybe if he just came to the rooms that night to check on him, to ask him all of those questions he wanted to ask, maybe then he would be standing here in front of him instead of the cold stone. Or maybe he would be rotting in the cell for the betrayal.

  
 _He’s just a boy!_ Was he? Yes he was, and he was even more of the child when he was put into the arms of the Regent. The hands soiled with the blood, sins and lies which dirtied a boy whose innocence was taken. A boy who was sold as a mere slave and abandoned by others.

  
How could he hate him? And yet how can he forgive him?

  
He thought of Damianos and Laurent of everything he went with them and how it all ended.

  
“Damen turned up to be Damianos of Akielos. A man who killed our golden prince, a man we all hated, especially prince Laurent.” The words were coming from his lips without him realizing it. “They ended up being happy together creating new empire. They forgave each other and moved on to better future. I wonder…I wondered many times, would I be able to do the same thing if you were alive?” Jord’s words began to hurt his throat. “I wondered often what would happen if you didn’t end your life. If I could…if I even got a chance to forgive you, to tell you that I can live with what you have done. But I guess I’ll never have that chance now…”

  
Jord reached for the pink rose that was resting on the ground. He took the head of the flower and put it on the cold marble stone in the Aimeric’s hair just like any lover would do to another lover. Just like he always imagined doing it after the war.

  
 _He was your friend._ Every time he remembers those words he remembers the horror in Americk’s eyes and shaking of his lips, cracked voice. Back then he couldn’t understand it.

  
Of course Jord hated Aimeric for killing Orland, for taking his friend, for betraying him, for lying him, for using him, and yet all he wishes was that he could see that beautiful young face, now rotting under the cold dirt with only cold white marble to replace his softness.

  
But times does miracles. Sometimes good ones sometimes bad ones. Right now it was doing only bad ones. Aimeric is fading. His curly brown hair, his green eyes, those lovely lips and fair skin… and that young and naive look he always had, reminding Jord of everything he desired but know that he could never have.

  
Yes. Aimeric was beautiful miracle but now life and time are erasing him.

  
Jord turned from the grave ready to leave, ready to leave another year behind him. Then just like in a memory something flashed before his eyes and touched his cheek like a light kiss.

  
It was a butterfly. It stopped right on the top of the pink rose - the one Jord picked up from ground. It wings slowly opening and closing as they directly spoke to Jord.  
The wings of the butterfly were white like fair skin of the young man with pinkish color at the end of the wings. That color reminded Jord of something he forgot. The only thing he could not remember because it was not shared with lady Lyoise and wasn’t on the face of Aimeric that dreadful morning-the way Aimeric blushed. The way his cheeks would change color every time he was with Jord. The first time they lay, first time Aimeric showed him the reading on the map, the time they sat near the fire and shared a bad vine, the time Aimeric admitted or lied about his feelings for Jord, even the time he cried when he committed the murder for the first time; and many times when Jord would give him a compliment as a man or as his captain.

  
That blush will never appear again. Not on the marble and not on the face of Americk’s mother. The only place it will ever appear is in Jord’s memory.

  
Suddenly He remembered those last written words; written in the red blood. Blood that created that lovely blush on Aimerics young face.

  
Jord I’m sorry…

  
For the first time he truly thought of them. Of the way lady Loyse just spoke. Of the way she asked for forgiveness and it reminded him of how Aimeric was scared and lost on the night of interrogation. He remembered her on the trial of his kings and finally he could believe those words.

  
Another butterfly touched him on his shoulder. It was big and brown, with hurt wings, ugly from all insects that attacked it, its glory faded away for some time, and the way it just kept on flying reminded Jord of Orland. It reminded him on the way Orland would hit him on the shoulder every time Jord had anyone offering him sex and kept walking wishing him good luck. It reminded him of the way his friend was rough and cool but still very soft and warm when they were together.

  
This butterfly joined the other one and they both disappeared into the meadow.

  
It all felt like Orland congratulating Jord on the win and Aimeric just denying it with a blush and leaving together; leaving Jord alone once again.

  
Jord felt smile forming on his lips and few tears pooling his eyes. All those memories all those feelings were now put in one single moment. Moment that felt like he finally found his peace.

  
Yes maybe he is finally ready to forgive and to move on.


End file.
